Harry Potter: The Odds of Omakes
by Black' Victor Cachat
Summary: A collection of omakes for "The odds were never in my favour" by Antony444. While non-canon, written with approval and help of Antony444 themselves.
1. Chapter 1

Summary:

A collection of omakes for "The odds were never in my favour" by Antony444. While non-canon, written with approval and help of Antony444 themselves.

Beta read by the wonderful MasterQwertster and Antony444, be sure to check out their own amazing stories! Especially the latter, since this _is_ their story it is based on :-P

None of us own Harry Potter, which should be obvious since the protagonist for that is a boy and not a girl ;-)

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Harry Potter: The odds were never in my favour:

The Odds of Omakes

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1995

The door to the secret meeting was slammed open with a Bang!

"Professor!"

"Yes, Mr. Weasley?" Albus Dumbledore asked with a grandfatherly twinkle. After all, he could easily predict what would happen next.

"Ronald!" barked Molly Weasley on cue. "This is a private meeting!" And an important one, as they were all discussing Voldemort's latest attacks on those poor Muggles, and how wizardkind should do their duty in protecting them.

Indeed, many of Dumbledore's most important members of the Order of the Phoenix were present for Severus' debriefing on Voldemort's actions. Well, partial debriefing. Albus had already privately conferred with his double-agent, particularly on what everyone else should know.

"It's Percy," Ronald went on, undaunted. "We figured out why he's been such a dark-loving git by going off with Potter!" Frantically he waved a parchment with meticulous handwriting upon it. "He's been spying on her, and learnt her secret! And guess what!? She is really a _he_!"

Murmurs of surprise went up and down the table, after which Alastor Moody –having finished doing a few quick checks of the parchment with his wand— growled, "Well, spit it out boy!"

Just then Neville Longbottom and Leo Black caught up with their friend. "It appears, sir," Longbottom answered, "that we've all been deceived. What we've been dealing with is not Alexandra Potter, but instead a very old and very Dark wizard."

Despite himself, Albus was intrigued. That one of the Weasley's, old allies of the Light, had actually been risking his life for the Greater Good, as opposed to being a black sheep, was tempting to believe. Moreover, Percy Weasley had always been a strict stickler for the rules, to the point Albus had known he could never directly recruit the boy for the Order. Of course, this very trait only made his allegiance to a younger girl so wrapped in darkness all the more confusing. _Which means of course that the idea that she isn't actually responsible for her own rise is seductive_ , he lightly warned himself. _Especially given how rapid the ascension of James Potter's daughter has been, learning so much and gaining so many allies so readily—!_

"Spit. It. Out!" repeated Moody.

"Mordred. The very man who killed King Arthur of Camelot."

Silence fell at Longbottom's words. He elaborated. "According to Percy Weasley's notes, it appears that Mordered created what Percy described as a Super-Horcrux, a—"

"He what!?" snapped Lord Sirius Black. Clearly he had still learnt a thing or two about the Dark Arts from his family. "That's an abomination! And what do you mean a super one!?"

Personally, Albus was thankful that the man had drawn attention to himself, as it hid his own sharp breath of shock. _What do those foolish 'Exiles' know of them!? What have those children done!?_

Clearing his throat, it was evident that Longbottom was trying to hide his own confusion. "Apparently Potter has taken an interest in them, yet refers to them as inferior to her versions. Based upon a few other comments, it seems Percy," there were too many Weasley's in the room to distinguish him otherwise, "concluded she, or he, specifically believed that they had created some superior version compared to what any other wizard or witch has managed. Especially in terms of how much more versatile the, the quote-unquote 'vessel, is. One detail that was particularly emphasized was that Mordred's can hide both its true nature and very existence, even from Hogwarts' wards."

"So you mean to say that Heiress Potter has been possessed this whole time?" Albus heavily said. Clearly he had misjudged the poor girl. Possibly. "How?"

Alas, Longbottom could only shake his head. "We don't know. It's possible James Potter managed to leave it to her, or by some other means it came to her. Once she put it on, she was lost." He took a deep, dramatic breath. "Unfortunately, it appears there are others. Mordred has been assembling either his followers of old, or creating new ones to replace them."

"Grave news indeed," Albus declared. "Yet now perhaps, if young Mr. Weasley's findings are accurate, we now know what must be done. Do you have anything concrete?"

"Some, Headmaster," Leo Black said for the first time. He held up a sheet of paper with a strange, flowing scrip that Dumbledore could not place despite all his vast knowledge. "It seems Percy found a book about it, copied down the main points, and attempted to translate it." He grimaced. "This language might look pretty, but according to these notes, it is rather nasty." He pointed at one part that had been circled several times. "Apparently you say this part like this: Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul."

In spite of his own formidable self-discipline, Albus felt the slightest shiver at the guttural speech.

Lord Black was clearly only biting back his impatience at this amateurish display of drama because it was his own son who was speaking up now (probably intentional of the boy), except Molly Weasley had no such restraint. "What does it mean though!? What did my darling Percy find!?"

Longbottom pulled a particular paper out of Ronald Weasley's hands, and even from here it had clearly been given far more attention. In the center was evidently the main text, while around it little notations written with a meticulous hand filled the margins, along with lines connecting them to specific words.

"Some of this is a little biased," Longbottom confidently said, "or uses terms that Percy believed were code words, or were personal names used by Mordred and as such were erased from historical records afterwards. Understandable, if regrettable as the wizards of old failed to finish the job."

It took more restraint than Dumbledore was proud of to give the boy a mere nod to prompt him to continue, as opposed to damaging his appearance as an authority figure by snapping at him to stop dragging it out. Where had the lad gotten such arrogance as to keep an audience such as this waiting!?

"However," Longbottom finally said, "this appears to be his most important source. An account of what happened that Percy found and memorized, before writing it down to try and decipher it." Clearing his throat, he began.

"'It all began with the forging of the Great Rings.

"'Three were given to the Veela; wise and fairest of all beings.'

"'Seven, to Goblins, great warriors and craftsmen of the mountain halls.'

"'And nine, nine rings were gifted to the race of Men, who above all else desire power.'"

Slowly Albus nodded as connections were made, and ideas began to spin. Longbottom took the time to elaborate upon what the Golden Trio and Percy had also theorized, addressing the others as if he were a statesman. "I bid you to remember that not only did Potter, no, Mordred, quickly forge strong relationships with those Veela from the Triwizard tournament, but the implications are rife with the fact that his former allies are firmly entrenched within France, Britain's traditional enemy. Similarly so with the Goblins.

"More importantly however, is that with the Exiled Army, all the first of Potter's followers wear rings to distinguish themselves. Four rings on them. So far." Taking another breath, he continued.

"'For within these rings was bound the strength and the will to govern over each race. But they were all of them deceived, for another ring was made.

"'In the land of Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom, the Dark Lord Mordred forged in secret, a master ring, to control all others. And into this Ring he poured all his cruelty, his malice, and his will to dominate all life. One Ring to rule them all.'"

Coughing, Longbottom added, "Percy starts to capitalize 'ring' by this point. Ahem.

"'One by one, the free peoples of Britain fell to the power of the Ring. But there were some who resisted. King Arthur led a great alliance, and marched against the armies of Mordred, and on the very fields of Camlann, they fought for the freedom of Britain, and the very world itself.

"'Victory was near, but the power of the ring could not be undone. With Fragarach, Mordred cut down King Aruthur. It was in this moment, when all hope had faded, that Merlin, the greatest of all sorcerers, took up his majesty's sword, and cut through both Mordred's ring finger and heart.

"'However, as wizards and knights saw to completing their victory, they failed in their one chance to destroy this evil forever. For as they fought the remnants of Mordred's Dark host, and mourned their fallen king, they overlooked how the hearts of men are easily corrupted. A lowly squire found the Ring, and the Ring of Power has a will of its own. It betrayed the squire to his death to disappear, and some things that should not have been forgotten were lost. History became legend. Legend became myth. Until at last it seems the world no longer knows the truth.'"

Now it was a contemplative silence that fell across the Order of the Phoenix.

To Albus' sharp eyes, all of them, save Severus (doubtless because of his anti-Gryffindor bias), seemed ready to believe this tale. In truth, so did he. It all seemed to tie together in his mind. "So somehow Alexandra Potter came upon the Ring, and it ensnared its newest wielder, and consumed her. Until only Mordred was left.

"Then Mordred found his sword of old, while crafting together a new army of followers by finding the other old Rings of Power. Or perhaps they too are Horcruxes." He deliberately kept from elaborating on what _those_ were, hoping the others would overlook that. "That may also explain the brilliance those students displayed, particularly Granger, if they are really adults." The others all looked queasy at that. Understandable.

Although Ronald Weasley appeared smug at the idea the Muggleborn's genius was actually false.

Then Lord Black barked out a doglike laugh. "Well, looks like Mordred's plan has hit a serious snag. Unless he _likes_ being in the body of a teenage girl!"

Count on Lord Black to put people at ease, as indeed most of them snickered at that, and even Albus allowed himself to indulge in some humour. Unfortunately the lack of reaction by the New Marauders cut that off, as the trio were uncharacteristically serious in the face of such a joke.

"Percy addressed that too," Longbottom said, doing all he could to appear the serious statesman. "The only other concrete detail he was able to unearth was that becoming a woman was part of a ritual Mordred has planned. Apparently it will allow him to claim a title of power." Once more his voice shifted to project greater drama.

"The Witch-King of Angmar, at which point no man will be able to slay him."

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Later

Alexandra Potter stared at Snape in disbelief as he finished his report to her. _Wh-what!? That's insane! Now not only will Dumbledore be thinking I'm currently carrying Mordred's soul, he'll be looking at the Goblins and Veela too! And how could he even believe that nonsense!?_

 _...Except, it'll also be easy to disprove..._

Indeed, Percy Weasley himself was standing right within earshot of Snape. Yet while he looked uncomfortable, he hardly seemed guilty.

And then her fight for self-control gave in, and her body shuddered and wracked against the forces besieging it.

Alexandra Potter succumbed...

...to utter hilarity as she laughed her head off. So immense was her amusement she fell right off her seat, tears in her eyes as she contemplated the sure enormity and absurdity of how _Perfect Dumbledore,_ _the so-called_ _'muggle lover,'_ had been duped.

Through her howls of laughter, she dimly heard Snape dryly remark, "Shall I take it that Mr. Weasley has yet to become a spy capable of fooling you, nor has Longbottom proven capable of simple research?"

That merely set off the Exiled Queen harder.

Glancing up, she saw a beaming Hermione wave forward a large cake with lit candles, and then led all of the Exiled Army and their allies, including several Goblins and Veela, in singing "~Happy Birthday to you~! ~Happy Birthday to you~! ~Happy Birthday Alexandraaaaa~! ~Happy Birthday to yooooooou~!"

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 **Author Notes:**

 **Here we go, the first of my collection of omakes, and a brand new one at that :-)**

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 **Please Review, and I will get back to you!**


	2. Chapter 2

Beta read by the wonderful MasterQwertster and Antony444, be sure to check out their own amazing stories! Especially the latter, since this _is_ their story it is based on :-P

None of us own Harry Potter, which should be obvious since the protagonist for that is a boy and not a girl ;-)

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 **New content added in response to original reviews :-)**

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 **Guest Review answers :-D**

Guest

Glad to hear I met and surpassed expectations! :-D And yeah, we are all on tenterhooks for Antony444's next chapter!

Thank you for your review and support! :-D

Here is the newest chapter, and I hope you enjoy it! Looking forward to hearing your thoughts! :-D

.

Guest

Great to hear, and thank you for your review and support! :-D

Here is the newest chapter, and I hope you enjoy it! Looking forward to hearing your thoughts! :-D

.

Guest

LOL yes I have to agree :-)

Thank you for your review and support! :-D

Here is the newest chapter, and I hope you enjoy it! Looking forward to hearing your thoughts! :-D

.

Guest 

Nice to hear :-) Yeah, I am really hoping Percy joins as well, would definitely be a new and original direction for his character!

Thank you for your review and support! :-D

Here is the newest chapter, and I hope you enjoy it! Looking forward to hearing your thoughts! :-D

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Harry Potter: The odds were never in my favour:

Omakes

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Published around the time of chapter 46

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"Some... incidents at Hogwarts have been reported to me, Your Majesty."

A sigh was the only answer which came of the figure hidden behind dark grey wizarding robes.

"Are they related to the current problems Albus Dumbledore faces at the Wizengamot?"

"Difficult to say, my Queen. The old meddler's control over Hogwarts makes it hard to recognize the gravity of the situation. And we no longer have an agent in his stronghold since the death of our last pawn there."

"Regrettable, Knight Informer." There was no inflexion in the voice. The conversation might have been about flowers for all the feelings the two figures showed. "Continue to monitor the situation as best as you can. Any weakness presented by Albus Dumbledore is worthy to be noted."

"Acknowledged. Should I start some of our contingency plans if the situation develops... poorly?"

There was a brief pause in the conversation, as the second masked figure estimated the risks.

"No. The King has ordered us to put the greatest priority to the operations in the Middle East. Dealing with Albus Dumbledore and his Order of Phoenix would require funds and manpower the King is not going to give."

A very minor movement of the hood was the only manifestation showed by the first figure hidden by light green robes.

"You disagree?"

"Not exactly, my Queen. I agree with your point on our resources now, but surely there will be a time when our organization will be free to turn its attention to Hogwarts? When this day comes, I believe it will be in the Exchequer's best interest to have agents and caches in place to deal with the situation."

"Your proposition... has merit." Seconds of silence followed more seconds of silence before finally being interrupted. "But you will need insight on Dumbledore's actions and plots to correctly plan his demise and our take-over of Hogwarts."

"Our last spy lived at Hogwarts for the duration of nine months, and was never revealed as such." Objected the first figure.

"True. But he was also instructed to keep a low-profile among his colleagues, which meant he never created an information network among the students or tried to rally one or more core teachers to our cause."

"With all due respect, my Queen, what is done is done. We could however try to integrate another spy when the new school year begins in September."

"We could. But this time I think we will need to bring someone stronger than a pawn to the playground if the Exchequer wants tangible results."

"What about someone who knows Dumbledore?"

The Queen of the Exchequer paused for fifteen seconds while looking at her interlocutor.

"Him?"

"He has the motivation."

"I will discuss it with the King."

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"Are you sure?" Alexandra whispered. The information Morag had found was difficult to believe.

"I am. There are not many organisations in Britain today keeping weapons on their sigil. Two black curved swords crossed on a red field is the official sigil of the Shadow Blades Coven. There's no room for error."

"Of course, it is." The green-eyed witch had the urge to cast a few spells on the garbage at the end of the room to relieve her frustration, but it would go against their goal of secrecy. "After all, after the Basilisks, trolls, dragons and the like, it was only a matter of time before the vampires made their grand entrance."

The Potter Heiress sighed dramatically for her red-haired friend's benefit.

"Next Dumbledore will hire a werewolf and the casting will be complete."

Morag smirked at her sarcastic tirade.

"Given the anti-werewolf laws the Light passed two years ago, I don't think a werewolf could teach at Hogwarts, Alex. Apart from the fact that a lot of them are just murderous beasts and have no teaching skills whatsoever, many Light-aligned Houses would scream in horror and the parents would withdraw their children before the week was over."

"Well, that's a relief." Of course, the fact Dumbledore couldn't hire a werewolf didn't mean he wouldn't hire someone else who would be far worse. According to the gossipers, Professor Kettleburn of Care of Magical Creatures was retiring in June and there were also two new DADA teachers to hire. That left plenty of room for a new disaster.

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"...and my mother spoke with Lady Vane and Lady Pettus last week," said Lavender Brown the Gossip Queen in the tone of a conspirator. It was not exactly convincing, as she didn't lower her voice for the little assembly listening to her. "The Department of Education has officially confirmed that poor Professor Kettleburn is going to retire and they are interviewing applicants for the job."

"Who is the leading candidate for the position?" asked a fourth-year Ravenclaw girl.

"A woman named Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank, she was one of the Care of Magical Creatures' teachers at Durmstrang two years ago," revealed Lavender.

Many boys and girls shivered at the Institute name. On British shores, Durmstrang had a not entirely underserved reputation for Dark Magic, brutality, unlimited ambition, and power. From her aunt, Susan knew this was just a reputation. The school was not producing Dark Wizards by the thousands – else the world would have been conquered long ago by hundreds of Dark Lords and Dark Ladies. But unlike Beauxbatons and several major schools of Europe, Durmstrang was the only one to advertise and boast of their Dark Arts curriculum.

"Did she study at Hogwarts?" Zacharias Smith asked. The underlying assumption in his voice was impossible to miss: if she did not, she had no place teaching them.

"She did," replied a tall Gryffindor sixth-year. "My cousin was with her in the sixties, Grubbly-Plank was a Hufflepuff." And one more victory for the House of the Badgers!

"It is not a done-deal," warned Parvati Patil as the Hufflepuffs like her in the group were smiling and whispering their approval. "Three other witches and four other wizards have contacted Professor Dumbledore and the Ministry."

"And there still are many days until June," intervened an anonymous student behind her. "There will be more."

"At least for this one we will have a competent teacher," remarked Fay Dunbar of Gryffindor. "We can't say the same thing for the other vacant positions…"

A groan emerged from multiple mouths at the same time. They all knew the class Fay was talking about. It was the bane of uncountable careers and had transformed what should be an important part of their education into one of the greatest jokes.

It was named Defence Against the Dark Arts…but it was more commonly known these days by the question 'How long will this Professor last?'. The betting pool of the Weasley Twins – although for this one they were in all likelihood the inheritors, not the creators – was incredibly popular and even their Head of House had put in a Galleon or two this year. Perhaps because Professor Sprout hated Lockhart, but still. For the record, no one had guessed what would happen to Professor Reed and it had severely darkened the mood for several days.

For Lockhart, it was Lee Jordan who had won the prize, finding both the date and the reason he would be thrown out of Hogwarts. Susan wished they had had more details, but unfortunately few students really knew the blonde-haired narcissist wizard in the end. And those who may have been in contact with him during the Heir incident weren't speaking…

"Maybe the two old Hit-Wizards will continue for another year?" suggested Marietta Edgecombe. "They're far better than Lockhart and Reed…"

"Everybody is better than Lockhart and Reed," commented someone and the students present laughed.

"They're better but Professor Dumbledore insisted they were only here as an interim measure," Lavender said, effortlessly regaining the control of the debate. "And I never heard one of them say they were going to be back in September."

Lavender shook her head in regret.

"No, I think the Headmaster managed to convince them to teach until the end of the year and their contract will end in June. They're intelligent" – the words 'unlike Lockhart' weren't said but everyone heard them nonetheless – "and they must know of the curse. When they depart, Professor Dumbledore will have no choice but to seek new candidates for the DADA positions."

And what a joy it was going to be. Susan's aunt had never made secret of the difficulties Hogwarts had to hire someone for this ill-reputed job. Sure, some managed to get out alive without fatal injuries – Lockhart had proved it was possible. But between the reputations ruined, the deaths, the crippling wounds, the career-ending incidents and the myriad of disasters, there were very few wizards and witches willing to apply for this post. Reed had been one of the three Junior Professor candidates this year and the two others had been revealed since then to be a smuggler of dangerous XXXX-class creatures and a Russian politician-in-exile respectively. That the young American fan-girl had been the best of the three was particularly heartbreaking.

And Lockhart had been the only person to want the Senior Professor DADA's title with the results they knew.

"Now, who do you think will be the new Senior Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts next year? The bets are opened!"

Many hands were instantly raised and Lavender watched her court for several seconds before picking a name.

"Cho?"

The Seeker of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team stood, and Susan felt a bit jealous about how many of the boys were watching her with rapture.

"We had two basilisks killed this year, so I will bet five Galleons we get a member of a Monster-Hunter Guild next year."

"We have already the Exiled Queen, Cho!" chuckled a Ravenclaw in the crowd.

"Fay?"

"We had a pretty but useless teacher this year. The next one will be competent but absolutely ugly. He will be a Dark Wizard of Durmstrang whose secret goal is to overthrow Professor Dumbledore."

Fay's prediction would have been completely crazy if it was another class, but stranger things had happened with DADA before…

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Near the end of summer

Albus Dumbledore stared in stunned surprise at his visitor and their proposal. And then slowly he smiled. Originally he had planned on having Remus Lupin teach Defence Against the Dark Arts; living proof that werewolves could become proud, contributing members of society if treated properly. Alas, the events of last year had made appointing a Dark Creature as a teacher too politically risky. And while doing this was more of a gamble...

 _It would stun my detractors into inaction. Maybe long enough to make it work, and then it would be the ultimate proof my methods_ will make a better world! _Yes, that ultimately, the Light shall be triumphant_

"You're hired," he grinned.

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"And I'm proud to announce our newest Professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts," Dumbledore proudly declared, while gesturing at an emancipated man who was grinning widely. "GELLERT GRINDELWALD!"

"WHAT!?" yelled the students while the teachers shifted uncomfortably.

Morag MacDougal swore like a sailor with such viciousness that it cut through even the widespread disbelief. Then loud enough for the whole Great Hall to hear, "He and Dumbledore really were lovers!"

"Language!" snapped Hermione automatically. "Wait, what did you say? What about Dumbledore?"

"Hah hah!" cackled Grindelwald (who looked a lot younger and healthier than he should). "Alby! You dog! _I_ never kissed and told, so how'd they find out, eh?"

Dumbledore's beaming smile became slightly, if noticeably, strained.

The school children took another moment to process this—

—and erupted into pandemonium.

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"But it's Dumbledore!" Neville Longbottom defended. "He must know what he's doing! Probably working to ensure the former Dark Lord is redeemed!"

"Yeah, it's Dumbledore!" snapped Ron Weasley. "He's probably got this all figured out!"

House Gryffindor was locked in a furious debate within their Common Room. Unseen by them however, the Weasley Twins were gently ushering their sister out, along with Lee Jordan and all the quartet's possessions.

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 _This is my best chance,_ Draco Malfoy knew. His mom had been quite... explicit as to what would happen if he failed to secure himself as a source of influence amongst all four Houses. Oh, his inferiors may never be lead to like him, yet he could make it so that he was someone they looked to with respect. Someone they turned to for favours and advice. Someone they _listened_ to.

Besides, Lyre, in earshot of Mother, had speculated that Longbottom would probably be trying to form alliances with the Light families in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw this year. To repair the animosity they had towards him, and to not leave him so dependent upon Gryffindor for support.

This year Draco would show his rival how it was done, and emerge triumphant!

And so he strove to convince his housemates.

"Yes," he argued loudly, "Grindelwald thought that Mudbloods could be our equals, but he was also a devotee of the Dark! We can learn from him! Learn more than even Durmstrang!"

"Because it's all too suspicious!" snapped Greengrass, clearly trying to hold onto her authority now that it was threatened. "Grindelwald was insane, and now we're all vulnerable to him! And the only safety we've got is Dumbledore promising us there's no way he can be a threat! _Dumbledore!_ "

"Then let them kill each other," Draco parried. After all, then maybe his godfather would become headmaster. "We'll all be fine!"

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All of House Ravenclaw shuffled and coughed as they stared at the Exiled Army, until finally a Seventh Year Prefect worked up his courage. "Uhm, Alexandra? What would it take for you to take care of Grindelwald?"

"Nothing," the Potter Heiress flatly declared. "Because we're all leaving tonight. Dumbledore's hit a new record on our first night back."

She _had_ been planning to ambush and interrogate the newest DADA professor to determine if he was _also_ an agent of some organization, with plans detrimental to the Exiles, but no need for _that_ anymore!

Hermione and Nigel, still Gryffindors to the core, despite the idiocy of their former Housemates, looked uncomfortable with this, but did not argue. Enough was enough.

The Ravenclaws all glanced at each other. "...In that case," their spokesman said after that wordless communication, "how much for us to come with you?"

There was a loud knock at the door, which was revealed to be Lyre and Fred Weasley. Or possibly George.

...Along with several prominent Hufflepuffs... and even a few nervous looking Slytherins.

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Grinning to himself, Gellert Grindelwald was all but skipping as he made his way to breakfast.

Oh sure, his 'escape' from the Exchequer had been far too easy. Yes, he had overcome the poisons and hexes placed upon him by the Knights, bypassed wards and other challenges, and various guards that would have killed even veterans from the War. However, the Exchequer were no fools; it had been far too easy. Operation Kronos/Paradox had been simply an excuse, a diversion, to guide him to the one place where he might still find refuge.

Albus Dumbledore.

Or 'Alby,' as Gellert knew him.

It had been thrilling really, sitting in the office of his greatest foe, and cajoling and luring him with hints about who had broken him out, and what secrets he had learnt. Surely it must have been the most dramatic job interview in Hogwarts' history!

Frankly, the sheer gall of it meant Gellert would have been satisfied either way. To his mild surprise though, Alby had swallowed the bait, and hired him!

Or alternatively, he knew _exactly_ what was going on, and did not care because this was the sort of test –and on his own terms—that he so craved; to prove to himself that he, Albus Dumbledore, was the best!

As it was, the former (Hah!) Dark Lord was under constant surveillance to make sure he 'behaved,' had no wand, runes were placed upon his body that had been restored via forbidden blood rituals, and had various artifacts secured to his person to dampen his magic and restrain his behaviour, except that only made it all the more fun! A game of wits between him and Alby as the Headmaster worked to 'rehabilitate' him, and Gellert sought to undermine him, as the Exchequer knew he would, and would seek to subvert his efforts for their own ends. After all, while certain Magical Vows prevented him from spilling secrets directly, he would obviously be trying to manipulate events so the Exchequer and Alby would destroy each other, which would require forming a new support network. A network that Knight Informer would try and corrupt for their own purpose as a matter of pride. Finally, even if he was old and crippled, magic was limitless in its possibilities. All you needed was a will and imagination, and he had spent decades only _thinking_. Now that he had the opportunity to practice it once more...

Move and countermove, where every gesture would hide a single phase of a master stratagem. Good times, good times.

Upon entering the Great Hall however, Gellert found it almost deserted.

Oh sure, most of Gryffindor seemed to be there, except for some notable gaps that had been absent last night. Plus Slytherin was represented by a blonde brat, who had a few others in his year seated around him. Although, at cursory glance they all looked like typically inbred Purebloods without an ounce of potential.

Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw's tables were empty.

 _Guess British children are smarter than I gave them credit for_ , the Dark Lord ruefully acknowledged.

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The teachers pointedly ignored Grindelwald as he sat down to breakfast alongside them, although in McGonagall's case it was because she was going into a tizzy.

Albus Dumbledore's seat was conspicuously empty, as he was off trying to manage affairs for the upcoming Triwizard Tournament. "Where can they be?" the Deputy Headmistress sharply demanded of Flitwick.

After absently chewing his food, the man merely shrugged. "Who can say? Are you sure they're not on the grounds?"

"Yes! They've all completely vanished! Whatever has come over them!?"

Filius Flitwick did not even deign that with a response. Instead he looked over at Severus and the contortions wracking his face.

It was intellectually fascinating, as the Potions Master usually had such tight, unyielding control over himself. Now however any layman could read the man's thoughts from his expression as he calculated that the only Slytherins still in attendance were the most small-minded, bigoted, and frankly idiotic. Aside from them, only the majority of Gryffindor remained, who in Severus' mind were no different from those Slytherins sitting across the Great Hall from them.

That accounted for all of the remaining students. All. Of. Them.

And Severus could never leave the confines of Hogwarts and its protections without suffering an unfortunate fate from his former 'colleagues.'

The man broke down sobbing into his hands.

 _That's what a bad attitude gets you_ , Filius observed philosophically. _I wonder if Minerva will get the courage to tell Dumbledore about this before or after he reads about it in the next edition of the_ Daily Prophet _?_

With that in mind, he hurriedly proceeded to wolf down his breakfast, as staying here was becoming too painful for him.

His tongue would be bitten off at this rate if he kept biting it to not break out in hysterical laughter.

 **-0-0-0-**

Morag was all but waving her arms in frustration. "Alexandra, we can't make a new magical school!"

"Why not?" asked Hermione, a radical glint in her eyes.

"Because we need teachers, a place, wards, books, and above all _gold!_ That's why!"

The magical village of Tara was presently packed full of students, along with their pets and belongings. Right now they were listening to the Exiled Army, if only out of ongoing fear of Alexandra, and inertia from a combination of sheep-like mentality and that the freethinkers were still waiting to see what they came up with next.

"Stall for as long as you can," the Potter Heiress simply said, tapping her chin. "I need to go somewhere quickly."

 **-0-0-0-**

Two hours later

"Thank you for seeing me," Alexandra respectfully bowed to the goblins seated around the table in front of her. They were all heavily scarred and wealthily dressed, and she instinctively knew these were the shadow leaders of the bank.

Their air of menace was also telling.

None of them responded to her greeting.

"I will be blunt and to the point," she continued. "I wish for a loan to fund a new magical school within Britain."

Now they all looked at her as if to say she should not make such stupid jokes in their presence. And that they were dangerous close to making new entertainment by killing her.

Hiding her nervous concern, Alexandra continued. "Look, you're all on the verge of declaring war on the wizards, and you'll probably amuse yourselves by claiming your 'rebellion' is all about you wanting to have wands. Again."

A few snickered at that old joke, while some appeared a little more impressed. Clearly she was more intelligent than the majority of her kind.

"However, this school would prevent you from having to fight a needless war, and allow you to concentrate your energies and all your forces upon the Exchequer."

More were intrigued now, and she was glad to see they had been reading the reports Grimjaw would have been passing along. Said Accountant was at her side, and she knew it was only his support of her plan that had gotten her this far. They all knew he was putting his life on the line.

"Because we'd have the wizard's children as our hostages?" sneered one goblin. "You're just like any other witch."

"On the contrary," and the goblins all stilled at her rebuttal, "unlike the vast majority of them, I'm actually capable of thinking ahead. I'm not offering you the chance to hold them prisoner by building and funding the school, I'm offering you the chance to _mold_ them!"

Their confusion was evident.

"Hogwarts does nothing except maintain and solidify wizarding prejudices. At this new school however, not only would they learn the true history of the 'Goblin Rebellions,' but be forced to come to grips that they are not the center of the universe. Or even at the top of the hierarchy. If they want to graduate, they'll have to learn how to be civil. And yes, one or more goblin teachers would be invaluable for re-socializing them."

"You're deranged," deadpanned the only one who had spoken so far. "Why on earth would their parents even allow them to go to such a school?"

She shrugged. "We would not have it obvious at first, and once they're in and find out the truth, their parents will be stuck choosing between home schooling, sending their children off to _foreign_ schools, or Hogwarts. And what seems more likely to you: that Grindelwald will survive the curse until the end of the year, or that Dumbledore will both sack him and admit he was wrong?"

 **-0-0-0-**

A few days later

Professor Flitwick blinked in surprise as he, Pomona, and Jeremy had their breakfasts interrupted by regal owls delivering to them elegant, golden envelopes. The Charms, Herbology, and Junior Charms Professors respectfully, were all equally confused upon reading who the sender was.

 _The Tara Academy of Magic?_

Ripping it open, Fillius found both a formal letter asking if he would be willing to apply to work at a new magical school, along with a personal letter from Alexandra, detailing that if he, Professor Flitwick, accepted, he would have to be the new Headmaster, as they needed someone with as impressive a reputation as his, and even more importantly, a lick of sense. Professors Sprout and Dhillion had also been approached, as they had been the only ones who tried to establish some sort of discipline.

She also complained that she had been overruled in calling the new school the Mithrandil Academy of Magic.

Chortling to himself, Flitwick glanced over at Pomona to see her eyes glinting as she read over an impassioned letter, apparently written by all her precious Badgers.

Jeremy was stroking his chin and looking intrigued.

"What is that, Filius?" inquired Minerva. Albus was busy at the Ministry doing full damage control, trying to pass laws to get those 'irreverent, disrespectful, and close-minded' students back.

"Oh, nothing much," he answered, folding up the letter, while glancing at Severus. The man had the air of one who was strongly considering becoming an alcoholic, and only holding out against it because he knew it would inevitably kill him. _And of course Alexandra never sent him a letter, after how he treated the rest of the students last year_.

"Although," he went on, "I believe I'll be resigning from my position once I've finished these delicious sausages."

"WHAT!?"

"Me too," Pomona said with the slightest touch of regret. Jeremy had already finished eating and was heading off now.

"Hmm," murmured Grindelwald, who Filius belatedly and furiously realized had leaned over to read his letter. "Do you think your new school could use a talented Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

That day, the remaining students learnt a variety of Scottish curses from one Professor Minerva McGonagall.

 **-0-0-0-**

Peter Pettigrew threw back his head to laugh and toast a glass of Firewhisky to James' daughter. Truly she was a Marauder at heart! For some reason the father in question was less than cheerful, yet still amused as the _Daily Prophet_ broke the story of the brand new school.

"I almost feel like I should go apply for a job there!" Peter guffawed. "Defence Against the Dark Arts maybe! Ha ha ha!"

"Ha. Ha. Ha," James weakly chuckled.

 _Really_ , thought Peter to himself. _What_ is _his problem?_

 **-0-0-0-**

Once again, Gilderoy Lockhart found himself as _Professor_ Lockhart. Except this time he had more work to do.

With a sigh, he put down the glass of wine and turned back to his marking.

He had almost been in charge of Understanding Non-Magicals and Why That's a Good Idea, except that Alexandra Potter (who he was pretty sure was responsible for that inflated, if accurate, course title) had argued that he was needed elsewhere: Potions.

Clearly she –rightfully—suspected that in addition to his NEWT in it, he had annual refresher courses and tests as part of being a spy. More importantly however, was the _atmosphere_. Kids came to his bright and open rooms, where they received praise and encouragement from a so-called living legend, who was acting like much less of a fop this time.

Almost literally night and day to what they had experienced under Professor Snape. To the surprise of the students, they were blossoming in this new learning environment (which of course said sad things about Britain right there). At this rate, due to their sudden growth, Gilderoy even felt he might make Fred and George Weasley into Junior Professors!

(There was also no price on Earth that could compel him to investigate why exactly those two were suddenly taking their lessons so seriously).

Acting like a proper teacher was surprisingly enjoyable, although he had also been warned by Potter that if he threatened the lives of the students, acted like a dandy again, or if she so much as saw him on Valentine's Day, she would feed him to her cousin.

("But Alexandra," the teen had whined. "I don't want to eat people! And he smells of perfume!")

("You will eat the flesh of my enemies and you will like it!")

He had only recently learnt how accurate that threat was.

Gilderoy was also _pretty_ sure she was only saying that to up her intimidation factor.

Not that she needed much help.

Nor was he was pushing it of course.

Of course, as his superiors had assured him when trying to convince him to take this post, _she_ had been the one to approach him for it, knowing he could not refuse the opportunity to observe how Britain's children were now being taught. So obviously she wanted him for something. The best he could figure was that she wanted a conduit to whatever government he worked for, except he had a dour suspicion it was more than that.

 _Just so long as it's not back to Hogwarts_ , he thought with a mental shudder.

When he had been snooping around a few days ago –also when he learnt that the 'Non-Magical' assisting with Understanding Non-Magicals and Why That's a Good Idea, Dudley Dursley, was a wererat— and had discovered the 'Exiled Army's' now outdated plans for Hogwarts. The way they described the situation was less of a school, and more of territory being divided up between armed camps engaging in brinkmanship . . .

Honestly, Gilderoy did not know which was worse: that children should be growing up thinking that way, or how _right_ it sounded.

 **-0-0-0-**

Pale-faced, the first-year students exited their Actually Useful History of Magic class. They had spent the last week researching and studying various, seemingly unrelated topics, all as a build-up to this lecture. A lecture that portrayed the 'Goblin Rebellions' in an entirely different light.

Suddenly the ones up front froze, with the ones behind knocking into them. Any complaints died down as they caught sight of Professor Gnarlknife down the hall, a wide, toothy smile on his face.

Stiff as statues, they could only watch as he proceeded to his third-year class, titled: Learning to Co-Exist with Non-Wizards before They Kill Us All 101.

With shaky legs, they made their way to their next class: Wizarding Culture and how Unimportant Britain Really Is 101.

 **-0-0-0-**

Neville Longbottom was bored out of his mind.

Truly and utterly.

There was only so many times that the New Marauders could prank Malfoy and his remaining goons, or teach them a lesson in proper behaviour. Ron had suggested going after the older Slytherins, yet he and Leo had shot that down. Besides, now Snape was escorting his House to and from their Common Room once they had started refusing to leave.

 _Possibly_ he and his friends had gone overboard with the prank before that.

Neville also had a nervous feeling the so-called professor was becoming more and more . . . erratic.

Regardless, that only left his fellow Gryffindors, and House pride forbid that. Besides, with Fred and George pulling a Slytherin, the New Marauders would be the obvious suspects for anything.

And it was not like they could play Quidditch anymore, what with how there was not enough students willing to play to make two teams. They only way they could scrape together enough students interested in playing was if the second team was made up of both Slytherins and Gryffindors, and _that_ was never going to happen!

On a related noted, Oliver Wood had become a tad unstable from not being able to play this year, or get the Championship. Not too much. Maybe. Hopefully. Neville was pretty confident that he would not be murdered in his sleep for failing to put Potter in her place ages ago . . .

 _Ugh, I almost wish I was at Potter's new school. At least there I could do something useful, like expose her for the Dark Witch she is! Or even just to get away from the Dementors!_

He shuddered at that last thought. While Hogwarts was surrounded by the demons, in Tara they were kept far away by a series of Wards that expanded well out from the walls. According to the _Daily Prophet_ at least.

Which was usually factual, right?

Weirdly, they had not received any letters from the students at the new school. Personally, Neville knew it led credence to what Professor Dumbledore had hinted, that Potter was intercepting the mail.

Parvati Patil was utterly devastated that her sister Padma had left her alone, and had not been heard from in months.

 _Well, they're probably all miserable there. Suffocating in Darkness, and realizing what a horrible mistake they've made in not trusting Professor Dumbledore!_

 **-0-0-0-**

"Sorry Alexandra," Morag cheekily grinned. "You don't always get your way."

Huffing, Alexandra folded her arms. "'All that is gold does not glitter,' is a great school motto! Besides, the rest are either just pretentious Latin phrases, or variants of cursing Dumbledore!"

Hermione was ignoring them in favour of creating a brand new library indexing system for all the books being donated to the school. While only a pittance compared to that of Hogwarts, at least it was a start. Regardless, once she was done, it would be simple and easy for a student to find any tome of knowledge they desired. The only trick would be for her friends to double-check she did not slip in any . . . _controversial_ spells to punish theft or damage to said books.

Nigel and Lyre just grinned and leaned back to enjoy the little show their friends were unintentionally putting on, and bask in the tranquility.

The room was open, with large, soft cushions to sit or lay on, with wide open windows to let the sunlight in.

All of them were enjoying a rare opportunity to just relax and hang out with each other.

Helping the adults run a school and re-socialize Magical Britain, while ensuring that said-adults did not become infected with stupidity, was a full-time job; never mind trying to do their own studies. It was a miracle they had any time left for themselves!

(Hermione was already beginning research to confirm that becoming an adult did not damage your brain in some manner. That it was just a general Wizard-Witch malady).

(They were still working on a vaccine).

Oh, and of course keeping busy trying to figure out what the Exchequer was up to.

"All right," Alexandra offered. "What about, 'For even the very wise cannot see all ends.' Well?"

"It's another stab at Dumbledore," smirked Nigel. "So it gets my vote."

"We should probably try something more imaginative, and less petty," sighed Lyre. "Maybe something about unity? We did dissolve the Houses after all."

"Possible," admitted Alexandra. "Just not as fun."

Hermione continued to ignore them all, lost in a world of cataloguing.

"Just so I can say we did warn you," the Potter Heiress deadpanned to her first friend, "tomorrow I'm dragging you off to Quidditch. You need some fresh air, and on Tuesdays it tends to just be those playing for fun, not because they're particularly good at it. Sounds good? Good."

Content with how the world was, the heroine settled back into her cushions, and turned her attention back to Nigel. "So how's it going with you and Luna doing the school paper?"

"Honestly? I'm starting to wonder how much of what she does is an act. Y'know, acting all daffy and going on about conspiracy theories, to make people overlook her?"

". . . Great," Alexandra said as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Another mystery to look into."

"You'd be bored otherwise," chirped Lyre.

"I'd like to know what boredom is again!"

 **-0-0-0-**

Ten Months Later

"Well, looks like we made it," grinned Morag.

"Cheers," Nigel said, raising his butterbeer.

"Cheers!" echoed the remaining Generals of the Exiled Army, barring Alexandra, and quaffed them back. Their leader was presently sleeping beside them as she recovered from the injuries she had suffered during the madness that had spilled over from Hogwarts and the Exchequer's schemes.

Bellatrix Lestrange vs. Dumbledore vs. _Professor_ Grindelwald vs. one of the Exchequer's Knights vs. Alexandra, who was just trying to stay alive while the titans fought it out.

Oh, and James Potter had been there too.

Frankly, it had all gotten rather confusing. Although from what they had gathered their plan to form a second school had managed to seriously derail the machinations of the other parties.

Somewhere along the line Alexandra had also picked up a pet stag.

"By the way," Lyre said, "apparently Dumbledore's approached us about attending the Triwizard Tournament too. Doubtless he wants to humiliate us there to try and lure students back."

Their growing network of contacts (spies) had informed them months ago about the event.

"Too little, too late," Hermione said with a dark expression. "Too many students are already coming around to our new teachings, and even they can see how much progress they're making."

"Definitely," Nigel agreed. Even he was shocked by how vastly he had improved at Potions.

"Nothing to be gained," Morag agreed.

"Besides," Hermione sighed. "Knowing Alexandra, even if she refused to compete, she'd find her name drawn from that Goblet."

Freezing for a moment, Lyre promptly gulped down the rest of her drink and grabbed for another. "Then we definitely can't do it!"

"Well, obviously," Morag shrugged. "She gets into danger enough as it is."

"It's not that!"

"Huh?"

Everyone was looking at the French girl in confusion now.

"Don't you remember!? Whoever is drawn has to help lead the Yule Ball, and that means Alexandra would have to choose a date!"

The rest of the Generals paused to consider the drama involved with their friend being told she was 'forced' to choose a date, choosing a date (and none of them had a clue as to what her preferences were in the first place), the inevitable chaos of the dance, what would happen afterwards . . .

". . . First chance we get, we destroy the Goblet. It's the only way to be sure."

"AGREED!"

"AGREED!"

"AGREED!"

". . . But how?"

". . ."

". . ."

". . ."

". . . I have an idea . . ."

 **-0-0-0-**

A few minutes later

The four students looked down at the form of the man they were willing to recruit for their little 'job.'

Fighting back her distaste, Morag said, "We're willing to make you an offer."

Bloodshot eyes glanced up at them with hope from the open tent he had been living in, situated in front of the school doors. A pitiful figure now.

Severus Snape.

He was haggard and unshaven, and the less said about usually greasy if clean hair the better. Beside him was a sign that read, "PLEASE HIRE ME!"

Voice rasping, all he said was, "What do you want me to do?"

 **-0-0-0-**

 **Author Notes:**

 **I will leave it to you to decide if Dumbledore is intercepting mail between the schools, or if the Tara students just have nothing to say.**

 **.**

 **Other potential courses included:** **"Ethics and not being a Bully 101," Dumbledore Deprogramming 101," and "Supportive Poitioning."**

 **.**

 **First parts are of course borrowed from canon, while the idea of the DADA professor was inspired by *SPOILERS***

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **Achille Talon's **"The Parselmouth of Gryffindor."** **

**-0-**

 **Please Review, and I will get back to you!**


	3. Chapter 3

Beta read by the wonderful MasterQwertster and Antony444, be sure to check out their own amazing stories! Especially the latter, since this _is_ their story it is based on :-P Indeed, the first half of this was originally written by them.

None of us own Harry Potter, which should be obvious since the protagonist for that is a boy and not a girl ;-)

 **-0-0-0-**

 **IMPORTANT!**

 **Thanks to suggestions from readers, chapter 2 has a newer and much longer ending now!**

 **-0-0-0-**

 **Guest Review answers :-D**

Guest

Glad to see I got the characters down right :-)

These will be updated according to inspiration and my personal schedule, although I do prefer to do them after each new chapter.

I copied and pasted all relevant scenes about the future DADA, so those are our only clues…

Make sure to check out the changes I made to chapter 2 thanks to your encouragement!

Here is the newest chapter, and I hope it was worth it! Really looking forward to hearing your newest thoughts! :-D

Thank you for your review and awesome support! :-D

.

Guest

Glad you enjoyed it so much! :-D And that would indeed be an interesting twist for the Exchequer agent!

Make sure to check out the changes I made to chapter 2 thanks to your encouragement!

Here is the newest chapter, and I hope it was worth it! Really looking forward to hearing your newest thoughts! :-D

Thank you for your review and awesome support! :-D

.

Guest

Make sure to check out the changes I made to chapter 2 thanks to your encouragement!

Here is the newest chapter, and I hope it was worth it! Really looking forward to hearing your newest thoughts! :-D

Thank you for your review and awesome support! :-D

.

Guest

Yes, I was fortunate with the timing of posting this, and glad to know I got the characters right :-)

Make sure to check out the changes I made to chapter 2 thanks to your encouragement!

Here is the newest chapter, and I hope it was worth it! Really looking forward to hearing your newest thoughts! :-D

Thank you for your review and awesome support! :-D

.

Guest

Glad you liked the new content! :-D

Here is the newest chapter, and I hope it was worth it! Really looking forward to hearing your newest thoughts! :-D

Thank you for your review and awesome support! :-D

.

Guest

Glad you liked the new content! :-D Yeah, given how many fics there are depicting Flitwick in a good light, surprised we do not see him as headmaster more. LOL I could not resist tormenting Snape like that. He got off lucky really X-P

NOOOOO! If I kill off my readers, what will I do!? X-D

Here is the newest chapter, and I hope it was worth it! Really looking forward to hearing your newest thoughts! :-D

Thank you for your review and awesome support! :-D

.

Guest

There are a bunch of fics that involve exploring what would happen if Potions was taught by someone who was a competent teacher as well as being a brilliant Potions Master. I mean, the lack of safety equipment when you have a class that frequently suffers from accidents that can include explosions . . .

One fic idea I liked in particular was after Harry lodged a complaint and an investigation happened, was that they learnt that the ceiling where all the potion fumes met had never been cleaned up. Slughorn was professionally horrified since the whole room was basically a ticking time-bomb with children inside.

Here is the newest chapter, and I hope it was worth it! Really looking forward to hearing your newest thoughts! :-D

Thank you for your review and awesome support! :-D

.

Guest

Yes, I had what was probably an unhealthy amount of fun giving Alexandra that line to Dudley ;-)

Here is the newest chapter, and I hope it was worth it! Really looking forward to hearing your newest thoughts! :-D

Thank you for your review and awesome support! :-D

 **-0-0-0-**

Harry Potter: The odds were never in my favour:

Omakes

 **-0-0-0-**

Neville and Dumbledore are waiting on top of Hogwarts' Astronomy Tower. To match the seriousness of the times, Dumbledore had put aside his usually colourful garments and adopted a plain white robe. For the same reasons, Neville had taken from the armoury a silver armour with the tree and the stars of the Longbottoms. In the distance the Forbidden Forest is dark and covered in mists.

"It looks so calm, Headmaster."

"Oh, this is the calm before the storm, my boy. Our enemy is ready. All its forces have been mustered." A pause. "Not only unending armies of goblins, but men too. Irish, French, Norwegians, and mercenaries from all the continent. Packs of wererats and werewolves. Her own coven of loyal vampires. Herds of centaurs, with arrows and divination. House Elves who have turned against their true nature. Veela agents. Even unfortunate Muggles. They will all answer the call of the Dark Lady. It will be the end of Britain and Hogwarts as we know it. The heaviest blow will fall here."

"But we have the Defeater of Grindlewald," objected the young Longbottom Heir. "It is not a minor strength."

A small smile came to the lips of the old wizard before his expression grew serious again.  
"Professor?

"Alexandra Potter has not yet revealed her most redoubtable servant to begin this war. And to make it worse, there are rumours spreading..."

In the past he would have disregarded these sayings. After seeing the outcome of what had happened last year, he wasn't so sure anymore. "Rumours saying no man alive can kill her."

 **-0-0-0-**

Headquarters of the Exiled Army

Hermione Granger was jogging so as to not be late after a thirty-hour long research marathon (she just knew Alexandra would be assigning her a House Elf now, since unlike any Witch or Wizard who tried to interrupt her work, she would not hex them). Time had flown by, and she could hardly be late for this!

Just as the clock hands struck the hour, she slid into the room where the whole Exiled Council was meeting, and took her seat as General of the 3rd Division, the Exiled Army's R&D.

"What do you propose to be our next move?" growled the representative for the goblins, cutting right to the chase. While officially only loose allies, by now they were all intricately intertwined into this alliance.

Growls of agreement flowed up and down the table, while the centaurs' hoofs scraped the ground, and wizards grimly nodded. Only the vampires did not react, preferring to appear aloof.

Unruffled, Alexandra stirred her tea. "First, we continue our efforts to penetrate and sabotage the Exchequer. We cannot win in open conflict yet, so we must stall them as best we can. Of particular note, we need to investigate what plans they have for the Non-Magical nuclear arsenals."

Fighting the urge to pale, Hermione firmly nodded. The Knights, to say nothing of the King they served, were all Weapons of Mass Destruction themselves. They _would_ have something to counter the tools of their competition, if only out of pride.

"Second, correcting England's diplomatic relations abroad. We need to be ready and able to work as one against the Exchequer at a moment's notice, so do whatever it takes."

Morag and Lyre, whose duties fell under that domain, both cheerfully nodded.

"Third, we are starting a new school in Ireland for the newest generation. Fourth, coordination with the British Prime—"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Waving his hands in agitation, the sinewy head werewolf leaned forward aggressively. "What's this about making a new school!? What about Hogwarts!?"

"What about it?" Alexandra impassively asked. "It's on total lockdown. No one's getting in or out, including students. With the new wards Hermione perfected, not even the phoenix can get out. A little re-working of the Herbology sheds, and Hagrid's experience, they won't be starving anytime soon either."

". . . You _let_ Dumbledore retreat to Hogwarts."  
She shrugged. "If he wants to surrender the initiative and pen himself in, he's welcome to it. Hogwarts is his fortress, his ultimate seat of power, and the last place he will leave defenseless. A few probes now and then will make him think we're still serious, that we see him as the major threat, while we get on with saving the world without him."

Then she gave a dark smirk that made everyone but her closest friends shiver. "And if Dumbledore does come out early, well, I can unleash my 'greatest servant.'"

At those words, all the allied representatives to the Exiled Army shuddered, and everyone present knew it was more than just their imagination that the shadows were growing along the walls.

All of them had seen the creature, and dared not doubt its existence. Unfortunately for the vast majority of them, almost everything about it was, literally and figuratively, hidden in darkness.

They had all seen it happen; when some threat to the Exiled Army was swallowed up by those very shadows, never to be seen again. Sometimes it happened to her own people, enveloping them, and leaving them lost in an abyss of darkness . . .

. . . only to return to the real world an instant later to find, no matter what spells and protections they cast beforehand, all their underwear was gone.

Even more disturbing was how periodically they would find the head of a full-grown dragon dumped in a doorway or hallway.

Or a nundu.

The odd giant.

There had been a pile of hydra heads that one time. If only once.

The majority of the followers and allies of the Exiled Army were _almost_ certain that this was a gesture of affection, as opposed to an intimidation tactic to maintain their loyalty. This was not as reassuring as it should have been.

Not to mention how Nigel had accidentally let slip that the being had no name because it was intelligent enough to _want_ one, but could not make up its mind on what to call itself. To define itself. Existential crises in artificial abominations with the power to wipe out entire nations was never a good start . . .

And _no_ , that was not a hyperbole. Knight Summoner of the Exchequer had unleashed the same lizard of fire and shadow to combat it, and that unholy evil had been destroyed. Parts of it _consumed_. The 'fight' had been so one-sided that the high-ranked member of the evil organization had been too stupefied by her loss to notice Alexandra apparate behind her, and remove her head.

So it was without shame that all the mighty soldiers and leaders who had sworn or allied themselves to Alexandra shuddered in fear. Truly she was a Power to command one such as this.

 _Especially_ since all the portents that clearly showed even the Goddess Morrigan was unsettled by Alexandra's greatest warrior, yet could do nothing to dissuade her Champion.

Perhaps the assembled council's only reassurance lay in how they did all know that it was Alexandra who had intentionally spread the rumour that 'no man could kill her servant.' First, because it was a good reputation. Second, to see how many of his pro-Light, Muggle-loving sycophants would catch the reference and meaning. Thirdly, because she wanted them to realize the Order of the Phoenix's gender imbalance in terms of powerhouses.

She found it all very amusing.

Her friends did not, and they all resisted the urge to roll their eyes as the quotation marks to 'greatest servant' that they, and they alone, heard.

"Uhm, actually…" Nigel coughed in his hand, far more confident than he had been years ago. "Has anyone actually seen your 'servant' lately?"

Hermione's head collapsed into her hands.

 **-0-0-0-**

"The wards are breached!" cried Dumbledore, racing across the stone parapet that connected the Astronomy tower to the rest of the castle. Neville was right behind the surprisingly spry old man, when a mass of darkness appeared before them.

Shadows rippled up like dark flames around an abyss, and the enchanted foundation cracked beneath it. Slowly it stalked forward—

In a burst of fire, faithful Fawkes was before the wizards, singing his song of Light and Hope.

"Go back to the abyss!" cried Dumbledore, brandishing his wand. "Fall into the nothingness that awaits you and your master!"

In a raspy voice like a knife whetted upon steel, grasping the spine of whoever heard it, the figure asked, " _Do you not know death when you see it, old man?_ "

Pure magic pressed down upon the Wizards, and Neville found himself on his knees, screaming in agony before the Dark.

" _This is my hour!_ "

Claws wrapped in fire burst to life, highlighting muscular, black armoured arms. The world seemed to twist before them, and then without another sound Dumbledore's wand, the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny, _shattered_.

Gasping, the Grand Sorcerer stumbled back, before tripping and falling down.

"Dumbledore!" gasped Neville as he tried to stand, while a shrieking Fawkes soared at the monster.

" ** _HSSSSSSSSS!_** " went the Dark Lady's greatest servant, and the phoenix burst into flame, a small egg amongst ashes.

" _You have failed! The world of men will faaall!_ "

It raised one set of claws to end it, when suddenly a horn call burst out across the night, even as the dawn peaked through over the mountains. Turning to the source even as it continued to ring out, the beast was spellbound. At its end, with one last glimpse at the Defenders of Magical Britain, it flew away without another word.

 **-0-0-0-**

"Honestly," grumbled Hermione, as she put the musical horn away. Beside her was a plate piled high with meat, and her other hand was idly scratching the head of Alexandra's 'greatest servant.'

While she deeply emphasized with him/her (gender was confusing in this case, and 'it' was insulting), the being tucking in beside her was also a source of embarrassment (and Hermione was embarrassed she was embarrassed about someone who had not intended for this to happen).

Truthfully, while everyone else believed this was all the result of the 'Dark Lady' experimenting with dangerous breeding, she and her first friends knew exactly how it had all happened.

It had been an accident really, except Alexandra _had_ warned the boys. Repeatedly.

Not that it was healthy to reflect upon that night in too much detail. Whenever she did, especially about what had happened _after_ the ritual had settled down . . .

Whoops, too late. In quick succession, Hermione reflexively pulled out three Calming Droughts and chugged them down. There, that would tide her over.

Finished with his/her meal, the being was now snuggling up to her, the earlier wit, menace, and penchant for melodrama gone like the wind.

Everything had resulted from an illegal ritual gone horribly awry, the Exiled Army generals accidentally being a distraction, sheer bad luck, and so many coincidences they would almost suspect divine intervention if not for Morrigan's reaction. Clearly there were limits to what even the gods would permit.

An unstoppable warrior, answerable to only Alexandra and Hermione, even if they remained (understandably) leery of involving him/her in any sensitive missions (they had arrived to kill the Summons of their own volition).

A being of unspeakable destruction, who possessed the power, cunning, and personal quirks of melding Fred and George Weasley,

Dobby,

Crookshanks,

and Atlanta the owl,

all into one person…

 _How is this my life again?_ wondered Hermione.

 **-0-0-0-**

 **Author Notes:**

 **Of course, Antony444 asserts that** **Alexandra will never give an enemy the time to see her coming if she has the possibility :-P**

 **-0-**

 **Please Review, and I will get back to you!**


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